


Field Trip

by TheOriginalSangster



Series: After School Specials [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Field Trip, First Kiss, High School, I failed Art History, I remember so much Art History, MoMA, One Shot, Spoiler Adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 22:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14554887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOriginalSangster/pseuds/TheOriginalSangster
Summary: Peter and MJ share a moment at Moma before the end of the worldNeither he nor she will ever be the same





	Field Trip

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a story called Spirit Week that looked at Spider-Man Homecoming from MJ's POV. This is a continuation of that story, reading the original is not required but encouraged.
> 
> Enjoy!

Huddled on the sidewalk in front of Midtown School of Science and Technology on a warm afternoon in late April Mr. Murphy’s AP History class had been waiting for their bus to arrive for over 45 minutes. Not that anyone seemed to mind.

The weather was generous that day and everyone was just pleased to be spending any time outside. Even Cindy Moon looked uncharacteristically relaxed as she soaked in the warm rays.

There was one notable exception.

Michelle Jones, or MJ to her friends, was leaning against the cool brick wall hanging on to the small sliver of shade it was offering her nose buried in a dense paperback. This behavior was pretty on brand for her

Until recently she was considered something of a weirdo or a killjoy if anyone considered her at all. These days she was making an effort to be more sociable because things happened, and people change. But no one changes entirely overnight.

Well, most people don’t.

MJ was engrossed in Vera Brittain’s _Testament of Youth_ , a devastating first-hand account of WWI and its aftermath following Vera Brittain herself.

Light spring reading.

She wasn’t interested when her by her favorite librarian, Valarie, first recommended it to her a couple of weeks ago. She wasn’t interested the third or fifth time either. MJ had hated every Great War story she had read to date. Something about young men running off to sacrifice themselves at the altar of combat always left a bad taste in her mouth.

Their glories felt so futile looking on back on them today.

Valarie was persistent and had pestered MJ to check it out almost every day, only getting her to concede when Valerie reminded her that MJ had read at least a book a day every day for the past 5 years, she could afford to take a risk once and a while.

To MJ’s the irritation and surprise Valerie’s recommendation had been engaging, haunting and beautiful all at once. It covered Vera’s life as a nurse including the obstacles in medicine at the time. There were pages of letters from her doomed finance fighting in the trenches. Nothing was romanticized. Just the cold truth of war.

Truthfully, however, anything was a welcome distraction for MJ to avoid listening to Peter Parker and his best friend, Ned Leeds’s ramblings about some ridiculous space movie they had watched over the weekend.

MJ had been obsessing over every little thing Peter had done for months like a pathetic, moon-eyed idiot. It had become her least favorite quality about herself. She tried everything she could think of to get over it, but nothing stuck.

Peter was an enigma, everywhere and nowhere at all times.

He didn’t see her as anything more than a friend anyway. That wasn’t something that MJ took for granted. People had never come easily for her and friends had been even harder. Being able to call Peter and Ned her friends was precious and strange to her.

Peter was also a verifiable moron.

He was regularly ditching school, running off, and swinging head-first into danger. Literally.

MJ had figured out his whole secret identity thing a while ago and while being a masked vigilante seemed brave or heroic on the surface MJ couldn’t seem get past the incredible recklessness of all of it.

She was constantly at odds with herself, she admired Spider-Man’s actions but Peter Parker was the one she really cared about and it was that very internal debate that continued to fuel her obsession with him.

“I’ll get around to it, I’m just,” She head Peter speaking to Ned looking over his shoulder before he whispered, “busy, you know?”

MJ’s focus drifted from the page to the conversation going on beside her but she wouldn’t dare look up from her book.

“It’s so good dude,” She could hear Ned saying, “James Cameron directed it,”.

“Like the Avatar guy?” Peter asked.

“Yeah!! but he used to be the king of sequels, he directed Terminator 2!!” Ned explained.

“Ok, That’s awesome,” Peter conceded.

“Right?” Ned said getting even more excited, “The second movie is all world building and Ripley being just the biggest badass ever,”

“Didn’t she go through enough in the first one?” Peter asked “She already had to sacrifice everything, can’t she catch a break? Hang out with her cat?”

MJ was beginning to suspect this conversation was never going to get interesting.

“But she’s the only one who knows how to kill the xenomorphs!” Ned cried.

Her suspicions were confirmed.  
  
She turned her attention back to her book when suddenly someone was shouting in her ear,

“Aliens is one of the greatest movies of all time!”

Startled, MJ looked up as Flash Thompson pushed past towards Peter and Ned.

“Thank you!” Ned quickly exclaimed before realizing who his new alliance was, “Wait, oh no…”

“That chick with the little baby and the flamethrower!” Flash went on, “just torching alien eggs like “Get away from her you bitch! Then Whoosh! Frickin fire season!”

“Spoilers man,” Peter mumbled.

“That's not what fire season means,” MJ added glancing up from her book, Flash glared back at her.

“Peter’s never seen it,” Ned clarified.

“How is that even possible” Flash scoffed, “Isn’t he like the biggest nerd to ever fail gym class or something?”

“I passed gym,” Peter said defensively, “And I only saw Alien this weekend, give me a break,”

“Well, I’ve never seen Alien,” Flash declared.

Ned blanched “Wait? What?”

MJ let out a snort and Peter caught her eye grinning at her. She returned it clumsily as she looked back down to her book. Unfortunately, now it was impossible for her to concentrate. Her brain was fixated on his stupid charming smile and his warm, idiot eyes.

“It’s like crazy old” Flash shrugged.

Ned disagreed, “It’s a science fiction classic by legendary director Ridley Scott that built the foundation whole that the Alien/Predator/Prometheus shared universe was built on,” he argued.

“Sounds boring,” Flash yawed.

Suddenly MJ’s book was ripped from her hand, she looked up and saw Flashes greasy face mocking her, holding her book high above his head

“What do you think MJ? You have an opinion about everything,” he taunted.

“Hey!” She shouted pushing herself off of the wall in pursuit of Flash.

“Alien or Aliens?” Flash asked.

MJ grabbed at her book, but he kept it out of her reach,

“I haven’t seen either,”

Flash looked stunned, “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know, how is it possible for you to be dumber than you look” MJ shot back.

“What about Predator? You’ve seen Predator right?” Flash asked pushing her back as she took another swipe at her book.

She had lost all her patience.

“Give me my book back!” she yelled.

“You would rather read some moldy old library book than seeing aliens get flamethrowered to death?” Flash sighed, “Youth is wasted on you,”

“and oxygen is wasted on you!” MJ snarled reaching for her book again when Flash pushed her back into the wall. She was weighing the options of beating the crap out of him while surrounded by witnesses when Peter quickly slipped behind Flash snatching the paperback from his hands before he even knew what was happening.

“Hey!” Flash cried as Peter tossed the book back to MJ.

Peter just shrugged while bitterly retreated into the crowd

“Thanks,” MJ said smiling awkwardly.

“You’ve really never seen Alien?” Peter asked.

MJ shook her head no.

Ned looked her completely stunned, “Whats wrong with everyone?” He gasped before he started rattling off random words that MJ assumed had something to do with the movie.

“The Nostradamus? Xenomorphs? Ripely?”

“It that like, a spell?” She’s asked sarcastically “Are you going to magically implant memories of watching some old movie I’ve never watched into my head?”

“Mech suit! And a cat!” Ned cried.

MJ began to worry he was having a stroke.

“You should check it out” Peter interrupted, “Its like, sci-fi, body horror with a strong female protagonist.”  
  
When he said it like that it actually sounded appealing. But that was probably because it was him saying it.

MJ shrugged “Ok, but I think I’ll start with the sequel”

Peter thought it was funny but Ned looked like he really was having a stroke.

“I know you guys are just joking around,” Ned sounded anxious, “but Peter, I don’t want you to walk away from this thinking you should skip Aliens just because Flash likes it,” he was looking at his best friend sternly.

Peter rolled his eyes “Come on Ned,”

“I’m serious!” Ned was looking at Peter desperately, “Ripley wakes up, its like, 60 years in the future and now she rescued, then BAM, the futurecorp government needs her to help save a colony of humans. Just when you think her life is going one way, one morning she wakes up and it’s like everything’s upside-down”

“I can relate to that,” Peter mumbled.

“Of course you can!” Ned beamed.

MJ still didn’t understand the powers that allowed Peter to Spider-Man all across Queens and beyond. She didn’t even how he acquired them in the first place. So far Peter had the idea that she knew. She had considered telling him a couple times, but messing with them was much more fun.

  
She liked Ned and Peter a lot but they were both complete morons. Their hearts were in the right place but neither of them could keep a secret to save their lives.

“Hey, Do you think this is one of those naked people museums?” Ned asked suddenly asked.

“What?” Peter squeaked, “What do you mean? Like a museum of naked people?”

MJ tried to hold back from laughing as she Peter squirmed.

Ned decided to elaborate, “You know, all these fancy art museums have paintings of boobs and sculptures of boobs, some even have photos of boobs. Do you think this is one of those kinds of museums?”

“No. It's not,” Peter screeched, his ears going bright red, “I mean, I don’t know,” he stuttered before turning back to her, “MJ?”

“Yeah,” MJ answered, “It's a naked people museum,”

“Awesome,” breathed Ned, unfazed by the gross nature of his questions while MJ tried to hide her amusement as Peter’s cheeks turned as red as his ears.

Cindy Moon caught MJ’s eye across the crowded sidewalk and met her with a smug grin plastered across her face. Cindy was the only person at school who knew about MJ’s crush on Peter and she had made it her mission to be as obnoxious about it as possible.

As much as MJ wanted to deny it, the two girls had become something, not unlike friends over the past few months in spite of their general distaste for each other.

She realized that Cindy could see Peter blushing in somewhere within MJ’s radius and was reading way to far into it. MJ had come to expect Cindy anything into something with little to no context. She scowled at her when she saw something yellow over Cindy’s shoulder.

The bus finally pulled alongside the school to a few sarcastic cheers from some of the students as well as sincere and enthusiastic applause from Mr. Murphy.

The doors swung open rot reveal the oldest man MJ had ever seen sitting behind the wheel.

“All aboard!” The old man called down waiting for the class step onto the bus but not one of the students moved.

“Oh no.” MJ could hear Cindy whispering frantically “No. No. No. This isn’t seriously our driver, is he? That can’t be safe. He’s like a hundred years old,”

“95!” The old man shouted and Cindy went pale.

“I’m so so so sorry sir!” Cindy quickly apologized.

The old man just bitterly waved them onto the bus again. Cindy sprinted up the stairs and into a seat in the back as swiftly as she seemed capable. The rest of the class followed her slowly and more skeptically.

“I don’t blame Cindy,” Ned whispered to MJ and Peter once they had found their seats. “after what happened in DC you would think the school would be playing things extra safe”

“The school probably just assumes Spider-Man will swing in and save us like he always does.” MJ pointed out.

A tense beat passed between the three of them. Peter and Ned looked at each other in horror each searching for an explanation on the others face.

“You guys never noticed that?” MJ asked dryly.

Peter forced out a stiff laugh. “Guess not,” he said smacking Ned who tried to follow Peter’s lead but his laughter was exaggerated and borderline manic.

Peter smacked him lightly over the head which seemed to knock Ned’s senses back in place.

Mj heard Ned quietly mumble an apology to Peter who was just shaking his head in disbelief.

She had never seen a worse pair of liars in her life.

As the bus rolled out of Queens the students inside buzzed with excitement. A day away from school was always cause for celebration but today was on another level. Their class was spending the whole day wondering around Moma, New York’s world-famous Museum of Modern Art. Specificity, they were going to look for examples of anti-communists propaganda. In reality, the class had the day to explore one of the worlds most prestigious art collections with next to no supervision.

It was a recipe for disaster.

MJ was trying to read but she was finding it difficult to focus.

Peter was staring at her. She could feel it.

It was becoming difficult to ignore how frequently he seemed to be doing that. At least, she assumed he was staring. Whenever she looked up to confirm her suspicions he would look away just in time, like he had a sixth sense. For all she knew, he did. Regardless, she could feel his eyes studying her, the sensation had become unmistakable. Sometimes it seemed like he was staring at her more than she stared at him, but that didn’t seem mathematically possible.

She could also be delusional.

Peter had never been good at hiding his feelings for Liz. Peter had never bee good at hiding anything.

He was staring at her now. She knew it. MJ found herself checking her reflection in the window from the corner of her eye to be sure that her hair wasn’t defying the laws of physics or something like that, but she looked fine.

Peter was just looking at her. Unfortunately, MJ realized she liked it.

She tried to focus on the words printed in front of her. Pretend that her heart wasn’t racing or that she wasn’t imagining what he was thinking when she had to mentally slap herself.

She was letting her dreams get mixed up with her with reality.

She was acting like Cindy.

The bus pulled to a stop downtown. Mr. Murphy, a tall, tired man with fair, thinning hair made a feeble attempt to give them instructions on their assignment and the museum’s protocols but rules were lost on a heard of energized teenagers.

Once everyone had been herded through the main lobby the class divided into cliques or ran off in pairs. MJ scanned the lobby but there wasn’t anyone she felt comfortable tagging along with.

Things had gotten a bit easier over the past few months as she had spent more time with Ned and Peter. These days they all ate on the same side of the lunch table, which might seem like nothing but had been a pretty seismic shift from her vantage point. Following them on their quest for culturally acceptable pornography felt presumptive. The idea anyone would want to spend any significant portion of time with her felt presumptive.

Besides, MJ had already been to Moma a thousand times, other people would just slow her down. When she was younger her aunt had brought her whenever the weather sucked. She would spend hours exploring and wandering halls of what felt like an endless monument to beauty.

As she got older MJ became more independent. She found her own hiding spots like the back stacks of the Queens Public Library, or any the greasy hole-in-the-wall eateries that were on every city block where she would watch people through sweaty glass windows while munching on fries.

The museum seemed further and further away from the older she got, her routines developed and patterns emerged. The museum wasn’t going anywhere. Sometimes she considered visiting when she read about a cool guest exhibition or if she read a description of a painting that she had seen when she was younger.

She never followed through.

It had been years since she visited. Paintings had moved and walls shifted but she found she still knew the layout like a well-worn path.

The fifth floor at Moma was home to some of the most famous and celebrated paintings of the 20th Century. Van Gogh, Monet, Matisse, and Picasso had all been given their due on the gallery floor. Even after all this time, there was a nostalgic kind of comfort and anticipation in as she stepped onto the escalator heading upstairs.

A voice called out somewhere behind her, “MJ! Wait up,” she turned and saw Peter jogging towards her.

She swallowed her excitement wondering what he was doing chasing her up an escalator. MJ could have sworn that she saw Peter take off with Ned in pursuit of impressionist nudity.

She asked him about it once Peter caught up.

“He wanted to split up. Cover more ground looking for…” Peter drifted off, embarrassed to say the word they both knew came next.

“Boobs?” MJ suggested.

Peter’s ears started turning pink “Yeah,” he sighed.

“Ned knows he can find porn on his phone right?” She asked which made him snicker.

The pair stepped off the escalator and passed by one of MJ’s favorite pieces, a massive Basquiat caricature called _Glenn_ , She might have stopped any other day, but today she just pressed on into the main gallery with a hyper-awareness that Peter was trailing behind her.

“Woah!” Peter gasped as they walked into Gallery 1. He was pointing to a painting behind a gaggle of camera-wielding tourists.

Van Gogh’s _The Starry Night_.

“I didn’t know that was here!” Peter squeaked, “Did you know this was here?”

MJ shot him a look, “Yeah… I’ve been here before” She reminded him.

“Don’t act like your too cool for this,” He smiled pulling her along by her elbow.

MJ liked Van Gogh well enough. What she did not like were the crowds of tourists his most famous painting drew in. They filed through the museum with little regard for the majority of the collection. They just breezed past the highlights, snapping photos of paintings they could have bought prints of, all to get out in time for cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery.

Something about Peter’s excitement must have been contagious because MJ found herself looking up at the meticulous brush strokes with a renewed sense of wonder.

“This is like, the most famous painting ever,” Peter whispered.

MJ snorted, hating herself for how adorable she thought it was that Peter was starstruck from a painting.

When he noticed the amused look on her face Peter asked what she thought was so funny.

“Nothing,” MJ lied.

“Are you laughing at me?” He playfully accused.

“I’m not,” MJ lied again

“You are,” Peter smiled.

“Just a little bit,” she conceded.

“Why are you so mean to me?” He pouted.

“I’m much nicer to you than I am to most people,” MJ shrugged.

She had expected him to say something snarky in return but instead, they stood together and settled into the surreal silence of snapping cameras.

It always surprised MJ how easy it was to actually spend time with Peter Parker.

He could make her feel nervous or giddy with just a well-timed smile and yet there was something so comfortable about being around him. MJ had been taking steps to try to make friends with a small handful of people and Peter was the only one that made it feel easy.

They stood together in the heart of a knot of people angling for a better view of the canvas. MJ didn’t notice that she and Peter had been drifting closer together until their arms brushed against each other and MJ felt like she had been hit in the face with a glass of cold water.

“Come on,” She said suddenly giving Peter a small shove, “I wanna check out the rest of the floor,”

“Do we have to?” Peter pouted.

“No,” she answered but still turned away.

“Five more minutes,” he whined after her.

“No,” She said walking away.

Peter begrudgingly turned to follow her. “Flash was right, youth is wasted on you,”

“I’m gonna tell Flash you said he was right,” said MJ.

Peter gasped “You wouldn’t!”

“I might” She shrugged with a smug grin.

Peter sighed, “So mean.”

They made their way past Henri Rousseau’s _The Dream_ & _The Sleeping Gypsy_ before the spent some time looking up at Pablo Picasso’s imposing masterpiece, _Les Demoiselles d’Avignon_ , which made MJ briefly wonder how Ned’s breast-quest was going. She could feel Peter staring at her once and a while but she reminded herself that it was nothing.

Friends look at each other without any subtext all the time.

Peter didn’t have the same background in art history as she did and had questions about artists and paintings. MJ was enjoying educating him and seeing the all the old masters through his eyes.

When they reached René Magritte’s _The Lovers_  Peter had a strong opinion that he did not hold back.

“It looks like their suffocating,” he instantly observed.

The painting depicts a pair sharing an embrace but their faces are wrapped in cloth, obstructing them from view and depriving the audience of the voyeuristic pleasures that came from watching a couple enthralled in a moment of intimacy.

MJ tried to explain, “That’s not the point-”

“I thought the point was how it made me feel?” Peter cut in.

“Well, yeah, but you need to put a little thought into it,” MJ said condescendingly.

He acted wounded, “I’m out here, sharing my feelings about something, and you tell me I’m wrong,”

“Not wrong, just... shallow,” she clarified.

“I’m not shallow,” Peter exclaimed “They have bags over their heads! I’m concerned for their safety”

“Your an idiot,” MJ smirked, “Look, sometimes you have to step back to see the bigger picture,” she explained.

Peter nodded before taking a sizable step backward.

“Figuratively,” MJ sighed “I meant figuratively,”

How did she fall for someone so dense?

Peter looked deeply confused and let out a long sigh.

“Art is complicated,” He mumbled.

Suddenly Peter’s head whipped over his shoulder.

MJ followed his gaze around the gallery, but there was no one around. It was still early and the museum wasn’t crawling with people yet.

“What’s up?” She asked carefully.

“I don’t know,” he asserted as he turned back towards her, “I keep getting this weird feeling, like someones looking over my shoulder,”

“So you’re paranoid,” she teased getting a small smile to tug at the corner of Peter’s mouth

They wondered deeper into the inner galleries to take in various pieces. MJ found that she had to actively work to keep Peter at arms distance. It felt like there was some kind of uncanny vibration hanging in the air around them that made her concerned she might do something stupid.

She was getting along alright when they entered a small hall of Jackson Pollock’s.

Pollock had become famous for his graphic drip paintings like the very ones that now encircled MJ and Peter. They were angry and passionate and typically enormous. They were an unprecedented moment of modern expressionism in their time.

“I think Mr. Stark has a couple of these” Peter observed has he surveyed the massive painting dominating the center wall.

Peter didn’t talk about his ‘internship’ much these days. He only mentioned it when he needed an excuse, which was always, but he never got into specifics. He almost never talked about Spider-Man unless he absolutely had, even then he would change the subject as quickly as possible.

Truly, the worst liar in the history of lies.

MJ knew she should choose her next few words carefully, “How much face time do you really get with Iron Man?” she asked.

Peter’s smile fell slightly.

“Well, I- I do… see him” he choked “From time to time. Now and then. At a distance, But it’s not like I know him, I don’t think he even knows me. I mean, he’s has met me. But he probably doesn’t remember me. Calls me Pedro sometimes”

Peter looked pallid and his forehead was glistening with sweat, he quickly looked over his shoulder once again.

“Why are you so edgy?” MJ teased, “Are you afraid of leaking secrets about the wedding of the century?”

Peter visibly relaxed a little, “Well, wedding planning is my top responsibility” he smirked.

“Your a natural fit for it,” said MJ smiling as she drifted a little closer to him, “That's probably why they hired you months before Tony Stark ever proposed,”

“Mr. Stark is nothing if not prepared…” something in Peter’s voice had changed.

They locked eyes and MJ felt the air was getting thinner.

For a moment she imagined closing the space between them and what it might feel like to press her mouth against his mouth.

She tried to push the image out of her mind as soon as she thought it.

“Are you blushing?” Peter asked he had been watching her carefully.

MJ could feel the blood pulsing in her cheeks.

“I don’t do that,” she lied.

Peter moved a little bit closer to her.

“I think to do,” he teased.

“Well, you would be the expert,” MJ shot back defensively.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“You’re the one that turns into a stumbling tomato whenever a girl talks to you,”

“I do not!” He protested.

MJ looked at him incredulously, “Except that you totally do,” she smirked.

He rolled his eyes as MJ sensed something in the air shift.

“Not every girl,” Peter’s eyes were fixated on the floor. “Just the ones who are smart and funny and drag me every chance they get.”

MJ could see his ears had already gone bright red, if he were brave enough to look up at her, she was sure his face would match. But part of her hoped he wouldn’t.

“Girls who don’t watch any movies, or do anything they don’t want to do…”

Peter looked up and his soft brown eyes locked on hers. She wondered for a moment if he could read her mind. Was that another one of his mysterious powers? Her heart was racing and she felt her arms started to goose-pimple and one side of her brain sees a signal to the other.

She wasn’t sure how their faces had gotten so close together, as though they were being pulled together by an invisible tether. MJ could feel Peter’s breath on her face, warm, quick and unsteady.

The realization that he was about to kiss her crashed over MJ suddenly. It wasn’t a fantasy she had woven in her head. It was actually happening. This was really happening.

She felt her body go ridged. She had imagined this moment a thousand different ways, the reality of it was surreal and intimidating.

Her heart started erratically pounding against her ribcage. She could see a spark of fear in Peters eyes which were fixated on her lips. She reminded herself to breathe as she felt Peters' nose brush against her cheek. Her eyes flutter closed as his body closed in.

Something happens. Maybe this was the moment she had been waiting for, maybe it was what he had been waiting for as well. Just as she thought he might pull away, something else seems to draw them closer.

His lips meet hers, they were soft and warm. Peter kissed her delicately, as though he might break her.

She had never kissed anyone before, she didn’t know how to breathe or what to do with her hands, she was afraid to move and break the spell. It wasn’t until she felt the rough skin of Peter’s thumb stroking her cheek that she let herself relax into the kiss. She felt herself melting into him. As his lips enveloped hers she realized that he tasted like maple syrup before she lost all sense of time and space.

Something had awakened between them that she couldn't fully comprehend. It was real and It was terrifying, and neither he nor she would ever be the same

“Peter!”

Ned came sliding into the gallery causing the two teens to spring apart.

"Ned!" Peter squeaked, turning to face his friend running his hands through his hair before looking back to an equally dazed MJ.

“This place is so weird, did you guys see that painting of the brothel but all the ladies are like… squares?” Ned asked, oblivious to his interruption.

“The Picasso?” MJ asked, shaking the stars from her eyes.

“Yeah, I think so,” Ned nodded.

“I - I dunno, I think so? Yeah?” Peter stammered stupidly, his eyes still locked on MJ.

Ned just laughed, “Come on man,” he gestured to his friend to follow him, but Peter was glued to the floor and looking at MJ with wide-eyed terror like she knew what to do.

She didn’t, so she pushed him instead.

Peter stumbled after Ned looking back at MJ even more confused.

MJ buried her face in her hands.

Her skin was on fire.

She had no idea what she was doing, but she felt pretty sure she was doing it wrong

The boys had disappeared around a corner when she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was had been holding. It didn’t occur to her until then that she could have gone with them. MJ considered trying to catch up but her knees were made of jelly.

She felt like she had just woken up from a dream and was trying to hang on the details before they faded from her memory. She forced herself to take a single shaky step across the glossy floorboards that she was certain had fallen out from under her.

She wondered if her heart would ever go back to beating the way it had before. She wondered if anything would ever be the way it was before.

It didn’t seem possible.

It didn’t seem real.

When MJ found her bearings again she was standing in front of _Christina's World_ , by Andrew Wyeth which was weird.

MJ used to find herself drawn to that particular painting when she was younger.

Seeing it now she realized she didn’t like it at all. Not really.

When she was younger she thought it looked like a fantasy of ‘Real America’. MJ had never left the east coast before and something about the painting of a girl in a pink dress crawling through a grassy field had romantic to her as a lonely girl.

Now that she was older it didn’t have the same effect on her that it did then. It felt nostalgic for a mythical American past in a kitschy way. The colors were tacky and the rural farm scene just felt out of place in amongst collection that was dedicated to contemporary art.

Although that wasn’t what made her this painting so discomforting.

She had read somewhere that the girl in the image had polio or some other degenerative disease. The artist always said his intent of the painting was to celebrate its subject, and yet he hid her face.  
In the painting, she was deprived of all agency and autonomy. The very nature of the piece forces the viewer to look away from her. Using a clever compositional trick that forces the eye from Christina up to the farmhouse then over to the barn and then back to Christina again.

A passive character in her own painting

MJ was feeling more grounded as she let her eyes loop across the muted countryside. It was a sobering sensation, but not unwelcome.

If she looked closely she could make out every meticulously painted blade of grass.

MJ took a deep breath, and then she took another as the warm memory of being held by Peter drifted over her in a wave.

He mind was buzzing with possibilities. What came next? Where did they go from there?

A cold emptiness fell over her as she realized the answers were clear.

MJ had studied Peter for months, she knew him better than he knew himself. Yet when she looked ahead to try and envision a future between the two of them she couldn’t see anything at all.

She could imagine herself kissing him, holding him, the feeling of his hair between her fingers. Past that all she saw was a hazy outline of heartbreak because any relationship with Peter would also be a relationship with Spider-Man.

She was standing to close. She needed to take a step back.

She was in love with Peter Parker, not Spider-Man. Peter loved being Spider-Man more than being Peter Parker. His world was dangerous and unpredictable and she could understand that it wasn’t his fault, it was his life.

She just wasn’t ready for it to be her life.

Not yet.

It had always been a fantasy, she could see that now. As much as she wanted to try and deny it, the truth they had been doomed from the start.

The timing was wrong, it would probably never be right. It was their curse.

She wondered if any of that really mattered. There was something chemical between them, who was she to deny that?

Another part of her knew that she was being foolish. Peter was going to do what he felt he had to do to help people, no matter how dangerous or stupid those things were. He didn’t have to do it, he wanted to. There was nothing she or anyone else could do to stop him.

MJ would have admired that about him if it wasn’t so stupid.

The math was clear.

It was a recursive loop. An equation that could never be solved.

They had never stood a chance.

MJ wasn’t sure how long she had stood they're caught in the hypnotizing composition of the painting. She decided she needed to get some air and swiftly began heading for the nearest stairwell that would take her out to the sculpture garden.

Something else stopped her before she got she reached it.

Claude Monet’s _Water Lilies_ is one of the largest pieces at Moma. The wall it was mounted on had been built for it specifically, curved so to separate the viewer from any vantage point to establish perspective.

Peter’s form was seated on one of the plush benches in front of the impressionist masterpiece. His shoulders were slouched and his head was hanging low. MJ thought he looked like she felt and she realized that he must have come to the same revelation as she had.

Peter was aware of her as soon as she walked in. His head jerked over his shoulder, as soon as he saw her his face softened.

MJ forced a sad smile.

” Peter’s voice cracked sadly, “Hi”

“Hi,” she breathed as she watched his face carefully, hoping to find some bit of information she didn’t already know.

MJ was carefully perched on one the low seats next to Peter, careful not to get caught in the magnetic field of him again.

She knew what he was going to say but she wanted so badly to be wrong.

The silence was deafening, each of them was hoping to prolong what they knew was going to happen next.

“So,” Peter cringed, “About what happened-”

“It shouldn’t have,” MJ quickly interjected.

Peter whipped around looking at her surprised.

He hadn’t expected that.

“What?”

MJ turned to face him slowly, “That's what you were going to say,” she said, searching face hopelessly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” She asked, hoping he couldn’t hear her voice starting to tremble.

Peter sighed, “You’re always right,”

MJ had to remind herself to breathe. She knew they were doing the right thing in the long run. She looked up and tried to focus on the explosions of pink and blue.

“If there was any other way, you have to believe me, MJ” Peter pleaded desperately, “I really like you,”

She did believe him. She knew exactly how much it was he was hurting him because it was hurting her too. Besides, Peter couldn’t have lied to her if he tried.

And he had tried

“I like you too,” MJ quietly confessed.

Peter looked at her sadly and tried to explain himself, “My whole life is just a complete disaster right now,”

“As opposed to when?” She asked.

He nodded sadly, “You got me there,”

She could remember a time when her problems were as small as her world. Things had been simple, but every day that went by became more and more complicated.

MJ realized this was one of those moments people had told her were defining, that would shape the person she would become.

MJ took a deep breath turning to face Peter once again,

“Sometimes you have to step back to see the bigger picture, right?” She reminded him with a sad smile.

Peter moved closer and MJ prayed he wouldn’t do anything to make this harder than it already was.

He spoke slowly and deliberately “You’re one of the best things I have in my life and I don’t want to see you get hurt,”

She understood exactly what he was saying. Peter wanted to keep her safe, and nothing about Peter’s life was safe.

“I know,” she nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered

“Don’t be,” She said moving a little bit closer to him against her better judgment.

An unspoken understanding runs between them. Peter’s eyes say everything MJ needs to hear. Knowing they shared the same pain somehow lessened the weight of it, but in turn, transformed it into an exquisite agony.

Peter moved a little bit closer. His hand wrapping around hers.

“We’re still going to be friends? Right?” He asked nervously.

MJ was shocked at the question.

“Of course I’m still your friend!” She stammered, “You think just because you kissed me I would stop being your friend?”

“You kissed me back,” said Peter smugly.

“Your a moron,” MJ smiled, pretending like everything was fine, ignoring the way her heart erupted when he said things like that.

Maybe the stars would align and she and Peter would get a chance to see if all of there was ever anything at all. When Peter had left Spider-Man behind him, or maybe when MJ found a way to love Spider-Man as much as the guy under the mask.

They would have to navigate out each day as they came.

The bus ride back to Queens was excruciating.

Field trips always had a markedly different tone between the arrival and the departure. This afternoon was as everyone was quietly scrolling through their phones as opposed to the incessant chatter from earlier.

MJ was disturbed by the silence. She needed that chaos from earlier to distract her.

She had been avoiding Peter. She told him she wouldn’t, then she realized that she didn’t know how to look at him yet. There wasn’t a switch she could flip that would turn off her feelings if there was she would have turned that sucker off ages ago.

Now she was slumped over in a seat as far away from Peter as possible. She had sunk down as far down as she could so she couldn’t see any glimpse of him or his Disney prince hair.

MJ tried to clear her mind to try but every thought leads right back to him.

She pressed her forehead on the bottom edge of the window and let out a long sigh. She felt drained, every part of her was spent. She reached into he bag for her book looking for anything to pull her out of her own toxic thoughts.

“What happened between you and Parker?”

MJ let out a yelp and almost fell out her seat. She looked up and saw Cindy Moon’s obnoxious face grinning down at her.

“What are you talking about?” MJ asked pulling herself back into her seat.

“You’re all grumpy and he’s acting like his parents died,” Cindy observed, “well, died again,”

MJ scoffed “I am not grumpy,”

“You were savagely roasting Flash for like, five minutes after he mentioned that his step-mom was on the museum board,”

She let out a long groan, “That guy is the worst,”

“Obviously, but that's not the point,” Cindy pressed on.

“There’s a point?” MJ asked.

“What happened with you and Peter?” Cindy asked again.

“Nothing, everything is fine,” she lied.

“If everything is fine then why are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding,” MJ sighed, “I’m just tired”

“You're tired?” Cindy asked skeptically.

“Yes,” she snapped, “it’s a big museum,”

“Ok, but that doesn’t explain why you’re hiding from Peter,” Cindy pushed.

“I’m not hiding from anyone,” MJ lied.

“You are! I saw you guys flirting earlier, what happened? Something happened, right?” Cindy asked eagerly.

“Maybe I’m on my period,” MJ suggested wildly.

“No,” said Cindy dismissively, “We’ve been on the same the cycle for at least three months, that can’t be it,”

“Wait? What?” MJ yelped as she bolted upright while Cindy prattled on.

“Honestly, I’m a little offended you didn’t think anyone would notice,”

MJ looked at her aghast,

“What? That we get our periods at the same time?”

“No!! You and Peter, Duh,” Cindy said rolling her eyes. “Did you think you were being coy? Giggling with stars in your eyes for most of the day? Of course, I noticed,”

“Fine!” MJ relented “Something happened, ok? You win,” she hissed “but we already talked about it and we struck it from the record. It’s now a zero-sum something,”

“Ugh.” Cindy groaned and rolled her eyes again, “This is some hardboiled melodrama nonsense,”

“No, it is average teenage nonsense at the most!” MJ argued.

“Please,” Cindy sighed, “You like him and he likes you but instead of just going for it your both acting like you both making some epic sacrifice by being miserable,”

“Like I said, average nonsense,” MJ cut in.

Cindy didn’t understand and MJ couldn’t explain. She had Peter had their reasons for ending things before they started.

Good reasons too.  
MJ knew what she was made of and it wasn’t built to spend every day wondering if the most important person in her life would make it home alive.

She was being pragmatic, they both were.

“Stop being so dramatic!” Cindy exclaimed, “Go to a movie, eat ice cream or something. You’re in high school, the stakes are never getting any lower than they are right now.”

MJ let herself peak over Cindy’s shoulder where she could see the back of Peter’s head. She wanted to skip ahead a week after all this awkwardness had passed and they were back to being normal friends, or as normal as can be when one of you is a secret superhero.

Because all she wanted right now all she wanted was to throw logic out the window.

She had too let it go.

Something happened and now it was over.

She should move on.

It was over.

MJ said it to herself over and over, again and again. It always sounded like a lie.

This wasn’t how their story ended, it couldn’t be

She looked back at the book in her lap and ran her fingers across the cover. She thought about Vera, how the man she loved had been scheduled for leave on Christmas Day. The two of them had waited for so long and fought so hard to be together. Christmas came and went without any word and Vera learned weeks later that he had died in a military hospital on the twenty-third of December.

Maybe Cindy was right, for once the thought didn’t make MJ’s skin crawl.

Life was already hard, from the very beginning all the way to the end. Things were never going to get easier or less complicated, with Spider-Man or without.

What was she so scared of? Why was she letting herself make choices grounded in fear?

They would never know what would happen if they didn’t try, and she wanted to try.

Suddenly she saw Peter’s head once again shoot up and whip over his shoulder, but this time she could tell that he saw something.

MJ looked out the window next to her and she felt the world stop spinning.

A giant alien spaceship was floating over Greenwich Village.

She heard someone yelling something about their certain demise as the rest of the class started to wrap around her trying to get a better look at the deadly bicycle wheel.

MJ jerked her head back to try and spot Peter before he ran off to punch the alien invaders in the face, or whatever it was that he did. All she caught was a familiar human-shaped blur jumping out through the emergency exit.

MJ kept her eyes trained on the ship, which now seemed all the more ominous hanging in the air over the skyline. She knew that was where he was heading and when she watched it leave the atmosphere she knew he was onboard.

She kept watching, but she never afraid.

This wasn’t how their story ended.

**Author's Note:**

> Smash buttons if you dig it
> 
> check out my Homecoming story Spirit Week if you haven't 
> 
> Thank You for Reading!
> 
> Inspired by Avengers Infinity War & The Amazing Spider-Man Comic Book by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko


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